OF MY SECOND DELIVERANCE FROM EXTREME PERIL OF DEATH.
Now after this escape we went on pretty steadily, keeping ourselves
as remote as possible from the vicinage of men, and prolonging our two
marches as late as we might with safety. Towards evening we met with
an encounter which at first cost us no little alarm, but which proved
to be excessively to our advantage. For riding in the shade of a grove
of great trees, we saw coming towards us an ancient Brachmine, very
meanly apparelled. Compassionating his sorry appearance, the viscount
saluted him courteously, and offered him an alms, which he accepting,
turned, and looked shrewdly at my friend.
“Master,” says he, “we have met before.”
“Nay?” says the viscount, speaking lightly, though his countenance
changed somewhat. “I han’t no recollection on’t. Where was it that we
met, old man?”
“In the hole of the Mountain-Rat,” says the Brachmine, meaning that
strong place or fortress of Seva Gi’s called Rairey.
“Is’t possible?” saith my friend. “I can’t yet call your face to mind.
Stay,--is it indeed Vincaly Row[127]?”
“I am he,” says the old man, not without pride.
“I had not looked to find Seva Gi’s chief friend and manager alone and
disguised in the Mogul’s country,” says the viscount. “Sure you can’t
have forgot that jest of the courtiers which said that where Vincaly
Row was found, there Seva Gi himself might be looked for not long
after?”
“That jest is still true,” said the old man. “I am here, and my lord
an’t far behind me.”
“What! in the Mogul’s dominions?” cried my friend.
“If he ben’t in ’em yet, he soon will be,” says the Brachmine.
“Is he marching on Dhilly?” asked my friend, his eyes flashing. “Sure
here will be feats of arms such as the world hath rarely seen. I am
well pleased to find myself here at such a time.”
“Nay, he goes not to Dhilly,” saith Vincaly Row. “He is here only on a
private errand, the taking of his revenge on Cogia Bux,[128] the
governor of Tashpour.”
“I have heard of him,” said the viscount. “He led the Mogul’s army in
Conchon some years since, and was highly esteemed as a person of much
valour and prudence.”
“Ay,” saith the old Brachmine, “but he came once too near to Seva Gi
for his safety now. The king was out on a hunting expedition, and
halted for the night, with but two or three followers, at the house of
a certain landowner. Hither, after midnight, come Cogia Bux with a
great force, guided by a treacherous slave, and was got as far as the
threshold of the king’s chamber before an alarm was raised. There was
but three men with my lord, one of ’em being Madda Gi,[129] his
cousin, a young man of extreme promise. He sprang to the door of the
chamber, crying out to Seva Gi, ‘Escape, my lord! We will keep the
door.’ And thereupon the king, tying together coverlets and _turbants_
for to make a rope, did let himself down through the lattice and
escaped (the house standing on the margent of a steep), but the two
soldiers and Madda Gi were slain fighting. Which, when the king heard,
he was prodigiously grieved, and made haste to send a message to Cogia
Bux, saying, ‘Tell Cogia Bux that when he visited upon me the door was
shut’” (speaking of their manner of civilly denying oneself to a
troublesome visitor), “‘but I swear on my good sword Bowanny that I
will do myself the honour of returning his visit, and when I come to
Tashpour the door will not be shut.’”
“And ’tis on this errand he is now come?” says my friend.
“Ay,” says the old man, “for he was minded to go against the King of
Gulconda at this time, but the tears and entreaties of Seta Bye,[130]
the mother of young Madda Gi, declaring that her son was left to die
unavenged, prevailed upon him to proceed first against Cogia Bux. As
you may well perceive, all his hopes of success hang on his being
speedy and secret, but in these two things my master wan’t never yet
found wanting.”
“And we may hope to reach him?” asked the viscount.
“If you come on him before he make his attempt on Tashpour,” says the
old Brachmine. “If you be later than that, there will be but smoking
ruins for to greet you. But at present he is only some three or four
days’ journey from you by this road, and little over two days’ by a
rough way that I will show you.”
Then by means of drawing with his staff in the dust, he showed us the
way he meant, and presently departed on his journey again, with our
much thanks. And that night we encamped ourselves in a thick wood,
where we lay in much discomfort for fear of the wild beasts, hearing
them howling around us. And indeed, so greatly terrified was our men
by the alarms of that night that they prayed of us to spend the next
among human creatures. And though we did this with great fear and
trembling, lest our evil fame should have spread before us, yet we
found that this wan’t needed, for the whole place was already in a
ferment, and that for a reason that lay in front of us, and not
behind. For the Gentues were all mighty gratified and proud, as having
heard of Seva Gi’s advance, while the Moors were anxious and uneasy.
All this was pleasing to us, as confirming that we had learned from
Vincaly Row, and when we were safely lodged that night in the
rest-house of the village, and had supped well, though not
extravagantly, my friend and I discoursed much of the means whereby we
might soonest place ourselves in security. For it seemed, by what the
Brachmine had told us, that to reach the Moratty army by the shortest
way we must needs pass through a rugged country, extreme difficult to
traverse with such a train as ours, while the other way, where there
was a good road enough, should occupy us still two or three days. And
moreover, between us and Seva Gi there lay the strong fortress of
Tashpour, whence, as we had no doubt, Cogia Bux would be looking forth
for us, and our train being so large, it was little like that we
should be able to slip past him. These difficulties that threatened us
we discussed with great freedom, at one time even purposing to abandon
all our stuff (which, though valuable, was little in comparison with
life), and take the short road with only our men. But telling this to
Loll Duss, who was making ready where we should lie that night, he
showed himself prodigiously concerned, and entreated with much respect
that we would allow him to make a certain proposition to us. Which we
permitting, he begged of us to leave our train in his care, both the
men and all the beasts, that he might conduct it to the camp of Seva
Gi by the longer road, while we, the viscount and I, rid on without
encumbrance by the short way. It went to his heart (said the honest
fellow) that we should be left without the attendance suited to our
quality, but by submitting to this trifling inconvenience we should be
secure of regaining in the space of a few days all our goods, in the
stead of being compelled to undertake the rest of our journey without
’em. And this plan of his seeming to us very good and well-considered,
we gave to’t our attention, and went to bed resolved upon adopting it.
And setting out in the morning as usual, lest the villagers should
perceive our divided forces, we separated from one another at some
distance from the place where we had slept, our servants and _cooleys_
taking the road to the left hand, and my friend and I that to the
right. Meanwhile, I was not a little exercised in my mind as to
whether we were doing the best we might, and did give Loll Duss many
commands touching what he should do in respect to certain dangers, as
that in case of any pursuit made of them, they must all leave their
packs and escape into the woods, not rashly perilling their lives for
such poor silly stuff as beds and kettles. In all this he heard me
very patiently, though I am well assured he would never have suffered
any such thing to be done, and so we separated from them, my friend
and I riding on in the sweet morning air, the which was mighty soft
and agreeable, with as little concern as if that were not to be the
most weighty day of both of our lives, or at least of mine.
Through all the morning we held on at a good pace, our horses being
sound and swift, and at noon or thereabouts halted for a rest of two
hours, for more we dared not take, if we were to reach Seva Gi and his
army by sunset. Setting out again on our journey after this time of
repose, we found that we must needs progress with great
circumspection, since we now beheld very clearly the great citadel of
Tashpour frowning from its lofty steep before us. And here the
viscount showed very evidently the value of that training he had
received, for his eye told him of every ridge and every grove that
might afford us concealment in our riding, and we were well abreast of
the fortress before we were forced to relinquish our cover. But here
that which we had hailed as our salvation became, so to speak, a
destruction unto us, for we had been riding in the shadow of the edge
of a certain great wood, so that even had any been watching for us
from the castle they had scarce been able to perceive us against the
dark trees, and now we come full upon a huge quag or morass, wherein
my horse had like to have sunk before I could turn him and get him
out. And looking to see where this quag might end, we found that it
spread into the wood for some distance (making a dark and loathsome
mire and mud, very hideous to behold), nay, we could not reach with
our eyes the furthest limits on’t, so that our sole plan was to ride
out upon the plain and fetch a compass about it. And this, because
time pressed, and we might not search in the wood, to seek the other
end on’t, we did set about immediately, though doing our best to ride
leisurely, so as any perceiving us might take us only for honest
countrymen bent on their occasions. But when we come out upon the
plain, our beasts and we were evidently visible against the clear
green colour of the rushes by the side of the quag, and before we
could even circle round the end on’t, the viscount bid me look round,
and I obeying saw a troop of horse coming out of a gate of the castle
in pursuit of us.
Now these men were so close after us that they arrived at the side of
the quag nearest to the fortress when we were still riding along the
further margent thereof with all possible haste for to regain our
road, so that they did let fly at us with their matchlocks, as hoping
thereby to cripple and so delay us. But by God’s great mercy they hit
neither my friend nor me, their bullets all falling short of us, save
one only, which did strike my friend’s horse, making it halt and
stagger for a moment. But he calling out to it cheerfully, for he was
used always to speak to his beast as though it were indeed a rational
creature that could understand him, it went on again bravely, and we
two rid away at our utmost speed along our road.
“At any rate, sir,” says the viscount, laughing, “this shrewd pursuit
saves us from the need of seeking cover for ourselves. Our safety now
hangs on speed, and not on concealment.”
“You are right, sir,” says I, and we rid on at a brisk pace, though
holding our beasts well in hand in case of any fresh danger’s
threatening us in front. Looking back upon occasion to see our
pursuers, we beheld them at an agreeable distance enough, for their
horses wan’t so good as ours, and themselves heavier armed.
“If we can but keep up this pace, sir,” says I, “we shall hold our own
well.”
“Our beasts can do more than this, sir, if need be,” says the
viscount, not knowing of the misfortune that was about to befall us.
For as we rid, we came suddenly upon a river, which, though not very
deep in appearance, had its banks so high and steep that we must needs
ride along some distance to find a place where to descend them,
whereas our enemies knew the spot, and made straight for it. Happily,
we reached it first, though with no time to spare, and putting our
horses to the water, swam them over, mounting the other bank in safety
only a moment before the pursuers reached the first one. ’Twas well
for us that they had not tarried to load their matchlocks again after
firing ’em off, so that they could not shoot at us, but they were so
close behind us that we set our horses to their utmost speed and
tasked them sorely that we might get a good start once more. So well
did the good beasts obey us that we gained rapidly upon them, and had
soon near resumed our former lead, though we durst not slacken our
pace again as yet.
“We shall distance ’em yet, sir,” cried the viscount, casting a glance
behind him, but even as he spoke, his horse began to totter and
breathe heavily. My friend’s face grew pale, but he said nought to me,
only cheering the beast with his voice. But I, remembering the bullet
that had struck it beside the quag, saw that the gallop across the
plain had pressed it too hard, and that it must soon fail, and at the
same time there come into my mind a thought that did set my heart
a-beating quickly. So strongly did it seize upon me, that I saw at
once it must be obeyed, and yet (I am almost ashamed to write it) I
felt myself hang back from following it. Sure you would think that
this life of mine, that was of so little value even to myself, and
still less to others, would be resigned without a pang; but ’twas not
so, and in that moment I did learn the foolishness of all those idle
vapourings of mine touching my blighted existence, and the ease and
carelessness wherewith I would depart from it. For I found myself
cling even to that precarious hope on’t which now remained, and ’twas
with a prodigious effort that I made up my mind to do the thing that
now presented itself to me, and so make the only amends in my power
for my former presumption towards Madam Heliodora, and for the evil
thoughts I had cherished against her servant. Now while these thoughts
was yet in my mind, the viscount’s beast was becoming more and more
feeble, so as I saw it could not long keep on its feet, and even as we
were about mounting a slight ascent, it reared up and fell dead
beneath him. And upon this I did dismount, as though to help him to
arise from the ground.
“Come, sir,” says I, pulling him to his feet, for he was fallen partly
under the beast, though mercifully not much hurt, “mount my horse. We
han’t no time to lose.”
“Will he carry double?” says he, looking round as though dazed by his
fall, but obeying me. “’Tis but a chance, but we may essay it.”
I helped him into the saddle, and would fain have started the horse
with a blow, but he suspected my design, and turned round.
“Why don’t you mount, sir?” says he.
“The beast can’t carry both of us,” says I, starting the horse and
running by his side, as though accompanying him, “and your life is of
more value than mine.”
“Sir,” he cried, very angry, and striving to stop the horse, “have you
forgot that I am a gentleman, and I hope, a Christian, and do you look
for me to leave you to perish?”
“Sir,” says I, “I owe a great obligation to Mademoiselle de Tourvel,
and do desire to acquit myself on’t. And moreover, you have her
ladyship to consider, to whom you owe love and protection for the rest
of your life, and I have no one that need care whether I live or die.
I have often been weary of my life, and I am well pleased for’t to end
in such a manner as this.”
“Am I to forsake you, my friend, the man that saved me out of my
captivity and brought me back to hope?” cries he. “Never, sir! Let us
mount together, if you will, and seek to escape so long as we may, and
then die fighting back to back, like men.”
“No, sir,” says I, “for this I will tell you, which I had not looked
ever to tell any living soul again. There has come to me in my past
life an irreparable loss, so great as nothing imaginable can avail to
compensate me therefor, and after this I don’t care to live longer.
Mademoiselle de Tourvel will unfold my meaning to you if you ask her;
but I pray you, ask no more of me.”
The viscount looked down into my face, and saw, as I fancy, my history
wrote there plain, for he took away his eyes, and “_May God help you,
sir_,” says he.
“You perceive by this, sir,” says I, “that ’tis your duty to live for
her ladyship, and mine to enable you so to do. Go on and reach safety,
and enjoy your happiness with Madam Heliodora, and bid her forgive me
and think kindly of me. Farewell, and God be with you.”
But he would not depart thus, and stopping the horse, catched me in
his arms and embraced me, after the French fashion, weeping the while,
until I bid him hasten on, or he should yet be taken. And at this he
went on, yet with many tears, and turning round for to bid me farewell
once more, and I was left behind, panting from the running and the
turmoil of my thoughts, but joyful and glad of heart for that by my
sacrifice I had secured the happiness of that noble lady and her
servant.
Now my constant enemies (for indeed my enemies are as constant and as
curious in their arts as were ever the friends of Job) are accustomed
to declare that I acted thus from I don’t know what wicked design, or
else that I had good reason to suppose the means of rescue to be near
at hand, which indeed I could not, unless by the aid of prophetic
powers, to the which I don’t pretend. But in answer to these persons,
I may confess, although it be but a sorry confession for an Englishman
and one that hath seen many climates, that when I had suffered my
friend to depart, and turned my eyes to behold the advance of those
bloody and brutal men, that were now close upon me, ’twas with the
greatest trembling that ever I felt in my life.
Then they, coming up quickly, did lay hold upon me with little
gentleness and many ill words, and after binding my arms behind me,
and also making me fast with a thong of leather to one of their
saddles, did hale me with ’em back to the castle. And in this journey
I did endure such discomforts from the heat, the dust, and the smart
pace that my captors kept up, that I had no leisure to ponder over my
situation, nor even to do anything but continue the march. Yet this I
was glad to perceive--viz., that before we reached the castle there
catched us up certain of the band that had been sent for to pursue the
viscount further, and declared that they must needs let him go, for
that all their chasing was of no avail. And I, understanding their
Persian tongue, wondered much what new thought had seized my friend,
that he should so soon have forgot his prudent design of saving his
beast in case of some fresh danger, and be now riding so fast as to
have distanced thus easily and thus quickly all that were following
him. But such speculation as this was of little moment, and I forgot
it speedily when I was carried up that steep and winding road,
commanded at every point from the ramparts above, which leads into the
castle of Tashpour. This is the only way whereby the fortress may be
approached, for on all the other sides the rock is so high and steep
as even a goat could not make shift to climb it, and the
fortifications at the top, which were built by the Moguls on their
first settlement of the country, are in every way worthy of the repute
of that famous and warlike nation, and equal to any in Europe.
Now I being brought up into the castle, they did take me before Cogia
Bux the governor, a person of so ferocious an aspect and discourse
that I looked for nothing else than immediate death at his hands; but
I soon perceived that he durst not hurt me, being commanded to deliver
me up alive at Agra, there to be dealt with as the emperor himself
might determine. And at this I was sorry, both as anticipating a more
dreadful and lingering death than any they had skill to devise here,
and also as finding prolonged this disagreeable space of waiting and
looking for death. But for all this, I would not seem to show myself
afeared before these heathens, but did talk very big, telling them
that those I served would never suffer me to be badly used. But at
this they did laugh mightily, telling me that none of my friends
should so much as stir a finger to help me, since ’twas those of ’em
that were at Agra had given the intelligence that led to my
apprehension. And in this, methought, I perceived the hand of Mr
Spender, but forbore to dwell upon it in my thoughts, desiring to die
in peace and charity with all mankind. Then they did cast me into a
very deep and noisome dungeon, reminding me rather of the _Aljuvar_ at
Goa than of my cell in the Holy House, and bid me be prepared to set
out the next day for Agra. And I, being thus left to myself, and
foreseeing that in travelling with profane and heathen guards around
me I should have little opportunity for profitable meditation and such
as suited with my case, gave my mind to consider my situation.
Now the thought of my present estate brought to me some little
comfort, inasmuch as my misfortune was due to no fault of my own, and
had, as I hoped, secured the happiness of two much worthier persons.
But next my meditations turned upon my past life, and here I found
little to console me, for it seemed that since my marvellous
deliverance at Goa I had done little but go from bad to worse. And
first I considered my temptation at St Thomas, and recalled with shame
how easily I had been led by the nose, as we say, by my lord marquis,
almost to the betraying my duty and the dishonouring myself. And after
this I thought of my life at Amidavat, and of the pain I had caused to
my good friend Mr Martin, and likewise his attempts to lead me into a
more worthy and Christian course, and my declaration that I was no
worse than others. Then that come into my mind which the strange old
seaman, Substitution Darrell, had said to me aboard the
Boscobel--namely, that where force had failed to rob me of my faith,
other measures might succeed--and I perceived at last that this was
not far removed from being true with me. I saw, also, how I had come
forth from my imprisonment at Goa proud and haughty, reckoning myself
one that had suffered great things for God, and counting it only just
that God should recompense me by giving me in future all things to my
liking, so that that word of the apostle’s might have been wrote with
an eye to me, _Though I give my body to be burned, and have not
charity, it profiteth me nothing_. Then I saw how that, applying this
fancy of mine to my mad and presumptuous passion for Madam Heliodora,
I had conceived myself defrauded of my due in not obtaining her, and
had therefore fallen foul of all around me, both God and men, accusing
the first of injustice, and regarding the last with scorn and even
hatred.
By this means I had wasted, and worse than wasted (not indeed in a
material, but a spiritual sense), four of the best years of my life,
spending them in peevishness of spirit and in unworthy pleasures, such
as might best avail to drown my persuasion of the inequality of my lot
to my deserts. Now, when ’twas too late to amend, though not to
repent, I perceived my fault, seeing clearly, not only that I had not
been fitted for the happiness I sought, but also that it had needed
four years to teach me that I had no right to seek happiness at all,
but only duty. And this also I saw--viz., that in my repinings after
the happiness I could not have, I had lost that which I might have
had, as the company of worthy friends, the discourse of ingenious men,
the delights of research and discovery, and the like, wherewith many,
no better situated than I, have made their lives result not only in
good to themselves and solace to their own intimates, but also in
great store of elegant observations for the informing of persons in
England.
And this thought, moreover, to the which I was come, did bring into my
mind that occasion wherein I had most grievously failed in my
duty--namely, in breaking my contract with my cousin Dorothy at the
bidding of a rash and selfish presumption, and leaving her desolate
and bereaved of the hope in the which she was grown up. ’Twas not the
first time that this thought was come to me, but before this I had
been wont to turn a deaf ear to’t, seeking to stifle it, and thus
making my unworthy behaviour worse still. Now, however, I was minded
to do this no longer, and as they say that amendment and restitution
is the surest sign of repentance, so now I solemnly vowed to myself
(though little likely ever to be able to fulfil it), that if by God’s
mercy I should ever be released alive from this second captivity, I
would at the expiration of the term of my service return to Dorothy,
if she should still be unwedded, and marrying her, make to her the
best amends in my power for my former evil carriage towards her. And
having entered into this resolve, I found myself somewhat easier in my
mind, though still bowed down with shame and grief for my unworthy
courses, unworthy both in respect to the good teaching I had in my
childhood and the honourable traditions of our house, and also with
regard to God’s marvellous goodness and care for me throughout my
life. Thus then I was brought to cast myself humbly upon the mercy of
God through our Lord Jesus Christ, and confessing my sins and
entreating pardon of Him, to receive an assurance of forgiveness and
grace, bringing great peace into my soul. And having thus attained
that which my troubled conscience had long lacked, I laid myself down
in the dungeon, and so fell asleep.
I don’t know how long I continued in this happy oblivion of my
situation, but I awoke at last, hearing what seemed to me strange
noises. Now you must know that this dungeon, wherein I lay, was dug
deep down in the bowels of the hill whereon the fortress stood, and
beside the door whereby I had entered, had intercourse with the outer
world only by means of a long and narrow passage, in bigness no more
than a hand’s breadth, but leading out in some way to the open air.
And it seemed to me now that there come to me through this passage, or
air-hole, sounds as of scrambling and of stealthy voices. And first I
thought that the Moguls of the place, being determined to secure me
while I was in their power, were minded to murder me secretly, and
were approaching my dungeon by stealth in this intent. But while I lay
with this thought in my mind, trembling and shaking all over, as is
the wont of those that awake from sleep by reason of any alarm, the
noises seemed to rise higher above me, and so at last to cease. But I,
listening with all my ears, heard on a sudden a most dreadful cry or
shriek, as of one hurled past my window (if I may call the air-hole
so), from above. By this I was assured that there was some fearful
work on foot, and rising up from my place, I came as near to the
window as my chains would allow me, desiring to assure myself more
particularly of what should be happening. But now there come to me
from above a great and confused noise of shouting and the clash of
arms, so that I could discern that some great battle was going
forward.
But though I heard the cries and shrieks (nay, I could even discern
from the sounds the moment of each advance and retreat), yet I might
not discover who the parties should be, that thus met and fought,
until the noises ceased somewhat and the roar of battle was become
fainter. Then I heard hollowed[131] lustily, as though by many
throats, that battle-cry which had met my ears at the time of my
rescue at Goa--namely, “_Hoor! Hoor! Mohawdio!_” This sound recalled
to me at once that former scene, and did cast me into a state of great
confusion of mind, so that when the cry was growing less loud to my
ears, as though they that used it had gathered themselves together and
were marching away, I did sink down in a corner trembling and
perplexed. And thereafter heard I many such confused and strange
noises as never before out of my dreams, but there was no means for me
to determine what was the issue of all that had happened. For I could
not but suppose that Seva Gi and the Morattys, whose war-cry I had
heard, had made an attempt by night on the place, and succeeded in
surprising the sentinel, and so gaining a footing on the walls, but
how they fared thereafter, and whether they still held their ground,
or had been drove over the cliffs, I could not discover, not though
the question was of the deepest moment to me. With such patience,
then, as I could muster, I waited until the sun’s rays began to pierce
feebly into the dungeon through the air-hole, when also I heard
footsteps in the passage outside my door, and other doors opening and
closing, as though a jail-delivery were taking place. More than once I
heard the footsteps pass my very threshold, but they never tarried
there, and at last seemed to depart, while my heart cried out to me
that though others was to find enlargement, I was forgot. And this
bred in me a terrible frenzy and passion, insomuch that I beat upon
the wall with my hands, and called aloud unto them without, my chains
not suffering me to approach the door. And this I did, never
considering that my fellow-prisoners might only be led out to
execution, but possessed with the fear that I was to be left behind to
starve. And the sound of the footsteps having now ceased, there was a
great silence, while I lay in my corner, plunged in despair. But
presently I heard a voice cry very loud in French--
“Mr Carlyon, are you here? If you hear me, cry out aloud, and we will
release you.”
I could not mistake the voice of my friend the viscount, and for
answer I flung myself again at the wall and battered it with kicks and
blows, calling out the while to my friend that if he loved me he
should not leave me to perish. And at this he and the men that were
with him came and burst open the door, for the key on’t could not be
found, and he embraced me very tenderly, and then led me out into the
passage, and up many steps to the daylight. And because I was much
overcome by the sudden passing from hopelessness to hope, so that for
a moment I did cling to his arm and could not stand upright, he would
have me sit down, and brought me with his own hand a dram of some
cordial, and carried himself so gently and kindly towards me as no
woman could have been more tender. And after this he carried me into
the great hall, where I had seen the governor, and here was a very
stately person of middle age sitting upon a throne, to whom the
Morattys were bringing all their spoils from all quarters of the
place. And the viscount bowing very low, I perceived that here must be
the great Seva Gi, of whom I had so often heard speak. And rising to
meet us, I saw that he was of small stature, having arms very long in
proportion thereto, and an air of great activity rather than strength,
his countenance lively and handsome. Who welcomed me kindly enough,
speaking very agreeably to my friend in the Moratty tongue, he
answering in the same, which I understood not.
Then the viscount led me away, and brought me into an upper chamber of
the castle, sending one of the soldiers for food and wine, and while I
did eat and drink, he told me of his doings after our parting. For he
said that he had made straight for the Moratty camp, as Vincaly Row
had informed us on’t, and speaking in their own tongue to the soldiers
that he met, desired of them to carry him at once to their prince,
who, recognising him from of old, did receive him with great kindness,
and promised to do all in his power for my deliverance. And this
promise the king redeemed right nobly, for he called together those of
his choicest soldiers that he had brought with him, men well seen in
all manner of sieges and escaladoes, and led them himself to surprise
Tashpour. And this they accomplished by the help of ladders of ropes,
ascending in this way the cliffs deemed unsurmountable, as hath often
been done before by the Morattys, and having gained a footing on the
ramparts, as I had surmised, beat back the Moguls, and at length made
themselves masters of the place. And my friend then seeking among the
dungeons for me, had almost missed me, from my cell’s being set in an
obscure angle of the passage, had it not been for his assuring himself
by his calling to me that I was there.
This, then, was my second great deliverance, but to me ’twas even
greater than the first, since now I was set free also from those
unhappy thoughts and imaginations that had been my torment for years,
and was resolved, so far as lay in my power, to pursue duty alone for
the future. And that I might the better do this, I begged of the
viscount to make interest with Seva Gi to give us quickly a guard to
the coast, that I might bear to Surat the message I was charged
withal, and return to my business there. And this the king was good
enough to do, although he had at first been minded to have us both,
and in especial the viscount, go with him on this campaign, and assist
him with our counsel. Now this my friend had been right glad at any
ordinary time to fall in with, but he was now so possessed (as well he
might be) with the thought of Madam Heliodora, and the desire to
hasten to her side, that he delayed not an instant to refuse the
Moratty’s invitation, although in the most civil manner imaginable, so
that we parted from him the best of friends. So courteously did this
barbarian carry himself towards us, that while we tarried with him, he
appointed a butcher for our sole service, and had him slay a goat for
us every day, since the Gentues eat no flesh-meat, but he, knowing
that we Europe men was accustomed thereto, would not suffer us to miss
it. And on our departing, he did give us many gifts, yea, even to our
servants and _cooleys_, for Loll Duss was arrived at the camp in
safety with his train two days after us. Then sending with us a
sufficient guard, that should escort us to the gates of Surat, he did
bid us farewell, and went on to prosecute that war which for him ended
only with his death, the same occurring some three years later than
this adventure of ours.
Now we came to Surat, my friend and I, having dismissed our Morattys
at a convenient distance outside the city, with thanks and a genteel
present, and were received with great amazement by the gentlemen at
the Factory, and this amazement was not diminished when our story was
told. My good friend Mr Martin, hearing it narrated by the viscount,
was fit to embrace us both in his joy and happiness, and made his
comment thereon in many strange proverbs, culled from divers tongues.
I delivered the message I brought to his honour the President, and as
’twas now manifestly impossible for me to return into the Mogul’s
immediate dominions (though here out of danger, as being supposed to
have fallen in the sack of Tashpour), another gentleman was sent to
convey the answer on’t to Mr Kidder at Agra, and I was given his place
in the Factory for the time. The viscount also did his best to repay
our Factory for their entertainment of him by instructing divers of
the Company’s servants there in the Moratty tongue, I being one of
these; but so great was the prejudice wherewith the reported deeds and
purposes of the French Factory had invested all their nation in our
eyes (the said French Factory being at once so crowded with merchants
and so poor that they were thankful to leave the viscount to us for
hospitality), that I could not be sorry for my friend’s sake when a
means offered for his return to France.
This was a ship of Havre-de-Grace, coming from Phoolcherry and
returning home, whose master offered a passage to the viscount, and he
departed in her, bidding me farewell with much sorrow, the which I
also did experience for his leaving me. But although he did promise to
write me concerning all his affairs, so little commerce[132] was
there betwixt us and the French that near three years passed before I
heard from him, and then I learned that he had found on his arrival in
France my lord marquis dead, and this, as they said, rather of a
broken heart upon some disgrace he was fallen into with the court,
such as had made him be recalled and kept him idle, than of any more
exact disease. Madam Heliodora the viscount found dwelling in Paris
with a lady of quality that was some kin to her, and they were wedded
almost immediately upon his return, departing thereafter to his
estate, which was situate on the borders of the provinces of Languedoc
and Gascoign,[133] and _where_ (_says he_), _we shall endeavour, with
God’s blessing, to spend our lives in alleviating the miseries and
amending the situation of such as depend upon us_. And this letter my
friend did close with so many and such lofty expressions of the
gratitude that both he and his lady experienced towards me, that I
can’t quote from ’em; yet I won’t deny but they were very pleasant to
me, and that I loved to flatter myself with the belief that these two
persons, whom I did so greatly esteem, thanked me for some of the
happiness I now contemplated in them by means of this letter. And with
this persuasion of the good fortune of both my friends I did content
myself during several years that I heard naught from them, believing
them to be so greatly busied with their gracious designs for their
tenants that they lacked the time to write to me, and never suspecting
that first of all their letters had miscarried, nor later that evil
was befallen them, until I heard it from their own lips.
Now about a year after my return to Surat our ambassadors came back
from Agra, their business well ended, and I, who conceived myself to
have, as you may remember, a crow to pick, as we say, with Mr Spender,
did demand of him his reason for denouncing me to the Mogul, and
thereby imperilling both my life and my friend’s. But instead of
betraying shame or confusion, such as you might expect, at my
knowledge of his treason, he turned aside my question with the
greatest coolness in the world, saying only that ’twas a person’s
bounden duty to use any means in his power to succeed in his designs.
And I then leaving him, fearing lest in my rage at his effrontery I
should lay violent hands upon him, learned from others of the
ambassage that the viscount’s escape was at first kept as a secret by
the Moguls, but that when it came to the ears of the ambassadors, Mr
Spender gained an audience of the emperor, and all for to tell him
that our _cooleys_ returned from Gualleyor had spoke of a second
Europe man in my train, whose face they had never seen, and this (said
Mr Spender), might well be the escaped prisoner. And the Mogul,
hearing this, did take those measures to stop us whereof you know
already, and showed himself very favourable towards Mr Spender and the
rest of the ambassage.